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Class T £ L3i -3 

Book. - Eyz5 _ 

Copyright Is 10 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



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Attfc ($%r Iferne 



Atmi* 5. l*an 






COPYRIGHTED 1916 

BY ANNIE S. BEAN 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



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OCT -3 1916 



©CU437957 



2to QIIj? Somttg JH?mnrg 

Mtitm Woab ^mttb 



CONTENTS 

Breath of the Rose. 

A Summer Dusk. 

The Veil Between- Published " British Friend/' 

July, IQOQ. 
Dreams of a Far-away World. 
"Grieve Not Though Round Thee Darkness Fall.' 
Being. 

Sing, My Heart. 
At Easter Time. 
In Maytime. 
In June. 

Somewhere in Summer-Time. 
In August. 
In December. 
At Christmas Tyde. 

"This Sorry Earth Turns Round and Round." 
The Fields of Arcady. 
Mount Hamilton. 
The Eucalyptus Trees. 
A Moment at the Open Door. 
In the Fields and in the Orchards. 
Faith Goes A-Sailing. 
A Wind. 

The Things o' Air. 

Haldane's "Pathway to Reality." Vol. II. P. 278. 
The Lord's Earth — Copyrighted IQ13. 
"Yea, Lord, Thy will be done." 



BREATH OF THE ROSE. 

'Jji REATH of the Rose, 

KJ Caught by the Alchemist's Art, 

I bid thee disclose 

The love that is rife in the heart 
Go, find a place 
Mid her papers and letters and things; 

To each give a trace 
Of that marvelous fragrance that brings 

Past Junes to the mind, 
Though over us falls winter's night 

And drear is the wind. 
Then, if she think, read or write, 
To her sense thou shalt steal, 

Not like a thought that intrudes, 
But make her to feel 

The presence of Love that illudes 
Time's dark, ruthless blight, 
And o'er space and through Change, 
even Death, 

Sends its soft light 
And sweet dews, tender warmth, with 
a Breath. 



w 



A SUMMER DUSK. 

( UT of the dark and bosky woods, 
The sweet winds blow ; 
By ferny fen the fire-flies glow, 

Flicker and glow; 
From a shadowy pine a bird calls low, 

Clear and low. 
Oh, dear is the night when the sweet 

winds blow, 
And the fire-flies glow, 
And a bird from the pine calls clear and 

low, 
Sweet, and clear, and low. 



THE VEIL BETWEEN. 

^LO far hast thou gone since the morning 
f$ broke! 

So far with the mornings of long 
ago—; 
E'en with the first that the new world 
woke 
With the gladdening light of the 
sun's warm glow. 
And the wall that hides thee, men call 
Death, 
But there's only a breath between, 
my breath. 

So far hast thou gone since the noonday 
came! 
So far with the glory that is to be; 
With a thousand years as a day the same, 

From earthly fetters forever free. 
And the wall that hides thee, men call 
Death, 
But there's only a breath between, 
my breath. 



So near art thou come since the darkness 
fell! 
So close is my spirit folded to thee, 
Touch may not feel and speech cannot 
tell, 
Fast bound in the Infinite Love are 
we. 
And the veil that hides thee, men call 
Death, 
And it is but a breath between, 
my breath. 



DREAMS OF A FAR-AWAY WORLD. 

JfJ REAMS of a far-away world, 
2£f Echoes of songs unsung; 
Memory mingled with prophecy 
Of days that are not begun; 

Vague as a breath in the dark, 

Real as the beat of my heart, 
Are these things with me unceasingly, 

Of my very being a part. 

Since somewhere in space beyond ken, 
In the past that beginning had none, 

Each hath been each though the soul found 
home 
In ether or heart of stone; 

And, Dear, when I know thee so well, 
With a knowledge by long eons taught, 

A whisper will wake the far consciousness 
Of the first that my spirit caught, 



And with Love for a certain clue, 

In eternities yet to be, 
Naught can avail though worlds divide, 

To hold myself from Thee. 

While this seems so true, although 

My hand may not clasp thine, Dear, 
Why need the years or a continent 
Shadow the sunshine here? 



GRIEVE not, though round thee darkness 
fall, 

And one sweet day hath met its close. 
Out of the darkness of the grave 

The dead Christ rose. 



BEING. 

NEVER again shall I try, Dearheart, 
To make thee think I am good or wise; 
Never by art or guile, Dearheart, 
To seem the fairer in thine eyes. 

I have been far since we met, Dearheart, 

Was it yestere'en or ages ago? 
I have been in the still, vast spaces 

That only the soul and God can know. 

Oh, thine every touch is dear, Beloved! 

Never before have I loved thee so; 
But not by a hair can I hold thee, 
Sweetheart, 

Thyself, alone, must stay or go. 

Henceforth we must shun all seeming, 
Dearheart, 

Live in the truth that makes us free, 
For when one has been alone, with God, 

One only longs to be 



SING, MY HEART. 

^r ING, my heart, a merry song. 

Jimi? The fallen leaves are whirled along, 

The south wind pushes the clouds 

between 
And sobs in the pine trees' somber green, 
And some way the tears to my eyes will 

start, 
So sing a merry song, my heart. 

Sing a merry song, my heart, 

Of joys that stay though joys depart; 

Thou dost know the rollicking tune 

Of drunken bobolinks in June. 

What though flown the gladsome throng? 

Sing, my heart, their merry song. 

Sing, my heart, a merry song. 
If Hope grows faint, yet Love is strong. 
Thou dost know Love's every tone, 
And Love will some day reach its own 
Though time and space hold far apart, 
Then sing a merry song, my heart. 



<£ 



AT EASTER TIME. 

'ER the gray water and through the gray 
sky, 

A shimmering light, 
Bespeaking the joyous, radiant sunshine, 
Just out of sight. 

Through the gray hedges and through the 
gray wood 

Gray buds do appear, 
Truly fortelling that blossoming summer 

Soon will be here. 



IN MAY-TIME. 

T^N my garden the roses blossom and 
ell blow, 

Summer and Autumn and Winter 
and Spring; 
By my window the fragrant climbers grow, 
And small birds flutter and twitter and 
sing. 

Over my head is a sky of blue, 
Blue to the far horizon's rim; 
And the sun shines bright the long day 
through, 
Till it slips past the mountains, blue 
and dim. 

But aye in my heart there is longing and 
pain 
For the wild wet winds and the sweet 
warm rain; 
For the rosy bloom a-bursting through 
The bare, brown boughs that the white 
snows knew. 



IN JUNE. 

*Si love the stars, I love the night, 
W I love the darkness and the light 
That flashes in our Northern skies, 
Then trembles, sinks and slowly dies. 

I love the sweet, sweet breath of June, 
The warm South wind, the drowsy rune 

Of bees among the rustling leaves, 

And swallows nesting 'neath the eaves. 



SOMEWHERE IN SUMMER-TIME. 

JjfTERE sunbeams dance, 
ISP And waters glance, 
The tender skies bend over; 

And clear is heard 

The song of bird, 
And sweet the air with clover. 

Here soft winds blow, 

And humming low, 
The brown bees gather honey; 

Here daisies white 

Sway lithe and light 
Adown the meadow sunny. 



IN DECEMBER. 

ALL the garden is forlorn, 
The frost has set its cruel 
mark; 
The gay chrysanthemums are gone, 
Their stocks are standing brown 
and stark. 

Yet in spite of Winter's chill, 
The violets still breathe perfume, 

And the rosy haws fulfill 

The promise of the summer's bloom. 



AT CHRISTMAS TYDE. 

^|F bitter thoughts thy bosom fill, 

ell Forget them Sweet; 

If any be who wrought thee ill, 

Forgive them, Sweet; 
For their misdeeds excuses make, 
On all their sorrows pity take 

As it be meet 
For Christ's dear sake; 
That the deep Joy of Heaven above, 
And the rare Peace of Heavenly Love, 
May reach thy heart and there abide 
At Christmas Tyde. 



THIS sorry earth turns round and round, 
Heedlessly whirling the years away. 

But there are whiles are ours to hold, 
To hold forever and a day. 



THE FIELDS OF ARCADY. 

ZtfPl H, the sun is up and the skies are fair, 
VJJ7 Oh, ho, for the fields of Arcady! 
The air is sweet beyond compare 
In the blossoming fields of Arcady. 

And all the flowers, they say, are wet 
With dew from Heaven, in Arcady; 

Press to the lip, one may forget 
All grief in the joys of Arcady. 

The path is through a winding way, 

To the happy fields of Arcady, 
Where sunbeams dance and shadows 
play 
With the breeze that fans sweet 
Arcady. 

The gate with broken hasp stands wide, 

There are no bars to Arcady. 
The tall trees beckon either side 

Inticing us to Arcady. 



Yet all who seek will never find 
Their way to the fields of Arcady, 

For having eyes are many blind 
Nor read the signs to Arcady. 

But hasten, hasten, let us go 

While the day is new to Arcady, 

For Sweetheart, listen, the way I know 
To the fair, far fields of Arcady. 



MOUNT HAMILTON. 

fAST wooded slope, round steep 
defile, 
We journeyed up the mountain 
way: 
Below us, flushed with orchard bloom, 
Green-walled, the fertile valley lay. 

We stood at last beneath the dome 
That crowns the summit; bleak 
and bare, 

Save where scant soil, in creviced rock, 
Brings forth a blossom, frail and fair. 

We had a glance through magic glass 

That grave men seek with eager eyes, 
Searching the long and silent nights 

To learn the secrets of the skies 

# 
Then, Sweet, mine eyes turned toward 
the East— 

I saw a sky of cloudless blue, 
But never glass had power to show 

One glimpse of my far land, — or you. 



® 



THE EUCALYPTUS TREES. 
HEY rise up into the morning 



yt mist, 

Vast and dreamlike and far away, 
Pulsing with rose and amethyst 
And shot with gold from the sun's 
first ray; 
And they bear me into an upper air 
Above Earth's sordidness and care. 

But afternoons when the dry winds 
blow, 
And make one shiver with cold,- 
— or heat, 
And the sky overhead is blue, blue, blue! 
And endlessly long seems the dust- 
white street, 
And the mountain sides are seared and 
scarred, 
Their darksome shadows press too hard. 



Stately and still they majestically stand 
Against the luminous dusk of the sky, 

Catching the last faint gleam of the sun, 
Holding moon and star in their 
branches high, 

And with the magic of night set free, 
They bring far heaven nearer me. 

But afternoons when the dry winds 
blow, 
And make one shiver with heat, 
— or cold, 
And the sky overhead is blue, blue, 
blue! 
And the line of the mountain hard 
and bold, 
And the world seems suddenly big 
and drear, 
Their darksome shadows crowd 
too near. 



A MOMENT AT THE OPEN DOOR. 

/|1\H, but the world is fair! 
V?J/ The russet branches there, 
And yellow, dangling leaves, 
Now caught by a glint of gold 
From the sun that weaves 
A path where the clouds are rolled 
And tossed and spread 
Across the blue o'rehead. 

And see how the shadows play 
O'er the blue hills far away! 
Was ever a sweeter note 
Thrust into air, rain-clear, 
Than this from the yellow throat 
Of meadow lark hovering near? 
And the throb of my heart doth 

neither belie, 
The smile on my lip nor the tear in 

mine eye. 



IN THE FIELDS AND IN THE ORCHARDS, 

aN the fields and in the orchards 
Many flowers fair are blooming, 
Snowy plum and golden poppy 

All the summer air perfuming ; 
But a pain is in my heart 

And I fear it's nigh to breaking, 
With longing for the picture that the 
snowy sails are making, 

As they're passing to and fro, 

As they passed long, long ago, 
Now in shade and now in sunlight 

Where the sweet salt breezes blow: 
Yet the flowers this sunny weather 

Blow their petals all together; 
Of their bloom small heed I'm taking, 
For my heart is nigh to breaking, 

And the tears have blurred my sight. 



In the fields and in the orchards, 
Many birds are blithely singing, 

Now a call and now a carol, 
Now a whistle clearly ringing. 

But a pain is in my heart, 

And I fear it's nigh to breaking, 

With longing for the music that 
the ocean waves are making, 
As they beat upon the shore, 
As they beat in days of yore, 

And the cry of drifting sea-bird 
And the plash of passing oar. 
Yet the birds this sunny weather 
Wake and sing and fly together — 
I scarce heed their flight or waking, 

For my heart is nigh to breaking, 
And with tears my sight is blurred. 



FAITH GOES A-SAILING. 

^tjAITH goes a-sailing, a-sailing, 
^ a-sailing, 

Faith goes a-sailing into the blue. 
Hope looks over the waiting water 

To rifted cloud where the sun shines 
through. 

Love delves down in the dusty dark, 
Humming a tune once learned from 
a star, 
Seeing through trouble, sin and sorrow 
The Light of Truth shine from 
afar. 



A WIND. 

y^HE sailors that wait in the harbor 
^/ o're night, 

Tell of strange things that befall 
at sea, 
Of the phantom ships and the false 
watch-lights. 
Of the terrible monsters they fight 
— or flee. 

Their yarns are long, their tales are 
wide; 
Some claim what the other man says 
is untrue, 
And each likes best to hear his own 
voice 
Tell what he has seen or what he would do. 

But they all agree 'bout a curious wind, 
That sometime or other strikes every 
ship; 
And none may guess when, where it 
will blow, 
Which vessel 'twill take or which it 
will skip. 



One told of a fleet that was all becalmed, 
The limp sails mirrored in sky-like 
sea, 
Of the restless stillness that held them 
fast, 
While time as eternity seemed to be, 

When this strange wind blew, from 
whence none knew, 
And seized two ships from all the rest, 
And carried one to its port in the East, 
And wrecked the other on rocks in the 
West. 

One told of a transport, crowded, 
thronged, 
With soldiers fierce for the thick of 
the fight: 
They studied the chart for the shortest 
route, 
They tested the engines* power and 
might. 



But vain their purpose and chart and 
steam ; 

Their visions of glory had all to 
surcease, 
For the strange wind bore them out of 
their course 
And landed them all at the Isle of 
Peace. 

Another told of a humble craft, 
— And little enough could the skipper 
boast 
But a cheery heart and a ready hand, 
As he fished and traded along the 
coast, 

And the strange wind filled the brown, 
patched sails, 
And instead of a cargo of fish and fur, 
It returned from a port not down on 
the map, 
And laden with frankincense and 
myrrh. 



Oh, the sailors that wait in the harbor 
o'er night, 
Will quarrel for slight and ridiculous 
cause, 
As about the rig of a phantom ship, 
Or if the sea-serpent has wings or 
claws ; 

There may be blows 'bout the mermaid's 
song, 
But concerning this wind they unite as 
the sod, 
Though some call it the Wind of Destiny, 
And some say it's only the Breath of 
God. 



THE THINGS O' AIR 

" — in all the world there is no such strong tower 
as this wherein I am confined; and is neither of 
wood, nor of iron, nor of stone, but of air and not 
anything else." — Morte a" Arthur. 

*A broke the bonds that held me — 

fIJ And the wee, sma' things o' air, 

That fastened them close around me, 

They gathered from everywhere! 

I laughed as I heard my fetters fall, 

I stood, one moment, strong and free. 
Then I heard the sma' things to each 
other call, 
And they laughed and they mocked 
at me. 

They brought their forges out of the 
dark; 
Lighted their fires right under my nose! 
I thought my breath would put out the 
spark 
That glowed where the blue smoke 
slowly rose. 



But it only fanned it into a flame, 

Slender and red like a serpent's tongue, 

That leaped and straight to my eyes it 
came, 
And under the lids it burned and stung. 

I was blind with the pain and the hot, 
quick tears; 
I could not see whither to turn or flee — 
The sledge and the hammer they rang in 
my ears, 
While the sma' things worked right 
merrily. 

And wrought they well, with might and 
main, 

Each broken link they made full strong, 
And bound them around me once again, 

To wear the rest of my whole life long. 

And now through the weary days I go; 

A slave to the wee, sma' things o' air! 
And if I cry out, they joy to know 

I find their fetters so hard to bear. 



In After Years. 

I learned to smile as the years crept by, 
Though the cords cut into my aching 
breast : 

I learned to stifle the groan and sigh, 
And still the ragings of fierce unrest. 

But oh! the bitterness and the shame, 
To know myself for so mean a thing, 
A slave! Tho' none whispered the hateful 
name, 
And my chains were covered with 
tinseling. 

Then came in the solemn hush of night, 
The Spirit of Truth, and revealed 
to me, 
That my chains were fashioned of endless 
might, 
Reaching through Time and Eternity: 



That nothing in boundless space is free! 

They hold together the near and far, 
What e'er has been with what may be, 
And unite my soul with the outmost 
star. 

And though the cords hurt me, again 
and again, 

I would not, now, if I could be free, 
For they bind my heart to my fellow-men, 

— And bind my fellow-men to me. 



At Last. 

I thought myself bound by biting chain, 
I thought myself driven by ruthless 
rod. 

But now I know that what I felt 

Were the sinews of strength of God. 



HALDANE'S "PATHWAY TO REALITY' 
Vol. II. P. 278. 



JjtttE may reach the heights, be bathed in 

^ glory> 

Lose in the distance the path we 
trod, — 
Breathe in a rapture undreamed in the 

Valley! 
But — "ever beyond are the hills of God." 



THE LORD'S EARTH. 

WHE Earth is the Lord's: this Earth, 
Sir even this, 

With its desolate reaches of sand 
That are endlessly drifted and ceasely 
shifted 

By winds that obey His command. 

The Earth is the Lord's, this Earth, 
even this: 
Where the mountains rise bleak to 
despair .' 
With cravesses that harbor grim shadows 
at noon, 
Rocky steeps that hurl back the sun's 
glare. 

The Earth is the Lord's and the fulness 
thereof ; 
This leaf, brightly hued by His sun and 
His rain, 
On the branch swaying lythe 'gainst the 
blue of His sky. 
At its touch the flesh festers, is tortured 
by pain: 



These blossoms, surpassingly, wonderously 
fair, 
That madden the brain with their too 
fragrant breath; 
This fruit, hanging temptingly ripe by 
the way, 
He who eats, shall find bitter, taste 
death. 

The Earth is the Lord's and the fulness 
thereof, 
The world, this world, even this that 
we know, 

With its temptest and drought, its earth- 
quake and flood, 

Its merciless heat and its pitiless snow; 

Where loneliness broods over land, 
over sea, 
The crowding, the turmoil, the strife of 
the town, 
Where pestilence walketh in darkness, 
unchecked, 
And fresh fields of morning, at noon 
withered down. 



The Earth is the Lord's and the fulness 
thereof, 
The world and they that are dwelling 
therein, 
They that lie, steal and murder, wage 
infamous war, 
With their impious folly, their greed 
and their sin: 

The beasts that prey on each other at night, 
The monsters that dwell in the deep, 
the least thing 
That crawls, the serpent that glides in our 
Eden, 
And poisonous insect and mite on frail 
wing. 



And His is the Kingdom ; as He will, by 
His law, 
The sands, never resting, are stilled 
into stone. 
Through eons of time, far beyond our mind's 
grasp, 
The mountains, the ages have claimed 
as their own, 

Are crumbled away — even by motes that 
are borne 
On the beams of the sun, and lo, 
where they stood, 
Stretch flowering prairie, fields fertile and 
fair, 
Where the nightshade, once deadly, 
yields fruit sweet and good. 

And His is the Kingdom, the Power is 
His: 
By His law, in His way the tempest is 
still; 



And His is the Kingdom, the Power, the 
Glory: 
All beings proclaim Him, all actions 
reveal ; 
The light of His spirit illumines all 
spaces, 
No suns e'er can dim it, no earth-shade 
conceal. 



Lord, we are Thy children, such even as 
we, 
Who are blinded and hapless and way- 
ward and weak. 
Grant but a ray of Thine all-seeing wisdom, 
To show us Thy law in Thy way we 
would seek. 

Arm us with shreds of Thine infinite 
patience, 
That we faint not at failure. Our will 
as the sand 
Ever swayed, make firm with Thine own; 
give Thou 
To our faltering arm, the might of Thy 
hand. 

That we willingly walk with Thy Law in 
Thy way, 
With strength both to do and to bear ; 
that we be 



Even as Christ! That we consciously 
feel that we live, 
That we move and have being, only in 
Thee. 

Thy law must be just, Thy way must 

be good; 
Thy wisdom, Thy mercy, Thy love doubt 

we never, 
For Thine is the Kingdom, the Power, 

the Glory, 

Forever and ever, — 

Amen. 



YEA, Lord, Thy will be done. 

I know all will be well, 
Yet why such sorrow comes to one, 

Why pain should be, I cannot tell, 
I need not understand. I only know 

For purpose, holy and divine, 
In Thy great plan, come grief 
and woe. 

Yea, Lord, Thy will, — not mine. 



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